


Not an Alliance

by JohnnyCremains



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, or at least an attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnnyCremains/pseuds/JohnnyCremains
Summary: Penguin discovers waiting to escape from marines is less exciting than expected.  When Killer is tossed into the cell next to him, things get a little more lively.*Takes place between chapters 701 and 974.  Contains some spoilers for Wano and assumes general knowledge of Dressrosa, Zou, and Wano.
Relationships: Killer/Penguin (One Piece)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 125





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Diverges from canon on two major points:
> 
> 1) Penguin was captured by marines just prior to the Straw Hats and Law arriving in Dressrosa.  
> 2) When Kid's alliance was betrayed, Killer was handed over to the marines instead of, you know, what happened in canon.

When Law asked Penguin to go to Dressrosa to do some reconnaissance before he went to Punk Hazard to do… something, Penguin didn't think much of it. Ever since Law had become a warlord, he'd been more apt to send crew on scouting missions. Penguin and Shachi were reasonably sure he was up to something, but why worry? Law would share the plan with them when he needed to. (Penguin also had a suspicion that some of the missions were entirely to throw some unknown party off Law's trail, but that was neither here nor there.)

This wasn't Penguin's first "stealth" mission, and there was nothing about it that seemed different than previous ones. Check in via snail a minimum of once every 36 hours, report anything that seemed strange (by Grand Line standards), and wait for further instructions. If Penguin's check-ins doubled as gossip sessions with Shachi or Bepo, everyone was polite enough not to call them out.

In retrospect, the gossip sessions were a good idea, Penguin reflected as he surveyed the cell he was currently imprisoned in, somewhere in a marine ship. At least he had a good idea where his crew was and what they were doing, since it seemed increasingly likely that he was going to miss his scheduled rendezvous with Law. Scratch that, he was definitely missing his rendezvous, he thought as he listened to the grinding that indicated the anchor was being raised. Okay, Plan B: wait until they dock in a quiet port and escape.

The marines hadn't searched him; some dramatic acting on his part to make him seem nonthreatening had been almost insultingly effective. His pride may have been stung, but he still had his lock picks and the porthole on the opposite wall looked to be just barely big enough to slip through if he didn't mind a bruise or three (he didn't). The room he was in held four cells, two on each side with a narrow corridor down the middle, and while it wasn't exactly homey, Penguin had roughed it in worse conditions than this. And at least the marines were feeding him regularly. So why not hunker down and wait for a good opportunity.

Marine imprisonment was a lot more boring than he'd been led to believe.

Two weeks after his capture, and Penguin was ready to climb the walls. So when the marines drew abreast of another ship (he guessed based off of the view through his tiny porthole) and he heard footsteps coming down the corridor, he perked up in interest.

When the door opened, a squad of marines dragged a man wrapped head to toe in chains down the corridor and dumped him on the ground in the cell next to Penguin. The new prisoner was someone Penguin recognized instantly, eyes widening.

That Killer, first mate of the Kid Pirates and one of the Worst Generation, was being held prisoner by the same marines that held Penguin did wonders to soothe Penguin's smarting ego. The part where Killer had clearly been searched thoroughly before being wrapped in chains while Penguin wandered his cell unhindered did not. That part made him want to borrow a page from Law's book and flip the marines off as they marched back out of the room, metal door clanging behind them.

Left in relative privacy and faced with the most interesting thing he'd seen in two weeks, Penguin moved forward to crouch by the bars nearest his new neighbor. He watched Killer heave himself into a sitting position to survey his chains (excessive), his cell (standard), the corridor (empty), and then Penguin himself (present). The Heart Pirate tried not to be offended that being at the end of that list meant the other pirate had instantly dismissed him as a complete nonthreat. After a brief survey of his new roommate, Killer went back to examining his chains, subtly testing and shifting them as though they might suddenly slide free.

Penguin in turn surveyed Killer, his mind churning. He was surprised that the marines had left his trademark mask in place, although he'd been obviously stripped of his other weapons. But more importantly, a high profile pirate meant that now he had to shift to Plan C. He didn't have a Plan C yet.

Apparently growing frustrated with the chains, Killer growled and shifted around, head craning to more closely examine his cell as if he expected to find a critical weakness just out in the open. Still crouched and staring at the notorious pirate six feet away from him, Penguin started to suspect he was being pointedly ignored as the striped mask pivoted back and forth, never pausing when it was tilted towards him. That was fine, it just meant more time to figure out Plan C. If he was also admiring how Killer had bulked up since the last time he'd see him, that was neither here nor there.

"What?" Killer snapped at him eventually, seemingly fed up with the silent staring. Penguin meant to start off by introducing himself, he really did. Sure he knew who the infamous pirate slumped across from him was, but that was no guarantee that Penguin was likewise known. His captain may be one of the Worst Generation, but Penguin was under no illusion that he was even near that level of notoriety. So yes, Penguin meant to introduce himself properly. If he was lucky, he might be able to establish some level of rapport that would help with the execution of Plan C (work in progress).

But Killer's sudden outburst startled him enough that instead of an introduction, he blurted out, "Let's make a deal." Killer scoffed and Penguin fought not to flinch at his own awkward abruptness.

"A deal? Like if I get rescued, I take you along?" Killer's voice was scathing, the set of his shoulders hostile. Penguin sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.

"Not quite. When you escape, we escape together. Whoever finds their crew first helps the other get back to theirs." Penguin couldn't see Killer's eyes, but he could feel the flat stare he leveled at Penguin like a physical weight and it made him tug his hat down lower over his eyes.

"You seem more like the 'wait for rescue' type. What makes you think I'd agree to a dead weight if I escape?" Penguin cocked his head to the side thoughtfully.

"Sure, I might wait for rescue in the right circumstances," he shrugged, unashamed of it. He propped his cheek on a hand. "But these aren't the circumstances for that. And I do have my uses," he added with an attempt at a smirk. Killer said nothing and it was impossible to judge his expression, but his posture was unconvinced. Penguin bit his lip and plowed on.

"Look, I was expecting to wait on a marine ship that was doing a normal patrol until they docked in a nice quiet port and I could quietly slip away. But now you're here. You're one of the worst generation. They're not going to keep to their routine, they're going to get supplies and make a beeline for Impel Down lest you manage to escape. I have no intention of ending up in Impel Down because I happened to be on the same ship as you. And besides, I'm an opportunist and this sure as hell looks like an opportunity to me."

"So, you think I can get you out. You haven't said what you think you can do for me to get me to agree." Killer didn't sound intrigued, more annoyed, but Penguin decided to take the response as encouragement anyway. He listened for a moment to the marines stomping down the hall towards the door, likely bearing lunch. Penguin looked at Killer for a heartbeat more before retreating to the corner he'd taken to favoring in the last two weeks.

"Well for starters, I can get you out of those chains," he said just before the door slammed open, feeling rather proud of his own dramatics. The weight of Killer's attention became knife sharp for a split second before he swung his attention to the approaching marine instead.

The marine that entered the room (bearing dinner) was one Penguin had taken to baiting whenever he saw him. He had a slight North Blue accent and some rude gestures from Penguin that weren't commonly used in the Grand Line confirmed the marine's origin. Harassing the stiff marine had been his primary form of entertainment since he'd been on the ship. Now, the marine practically threw the food and water down in his cell, uncaring as they slopped over the edges of the tray.

"Well, there's no need to be rude about it," Penguin remarked as he watched the marine move to Killer's cell. The marine had glared at Penguin's remark, but jumped when Killer made a sound most accurately described as a growl. Penguin was miffed to see that Killer's lunch was placed gingerly, almost hesitantly on the ground of his cell.

"I know you're jealous that I'm about to spend some quality time with our new guest, but don't worry: you'll always be my favorite," he said with an attempt at a simper. He fought a grin when the glare returned.

"Laugh it up while you can, pirate. This one's worth a trip to Impel Down, and we may as well dump you while we're at it," the marine sneered, and Penguin endeavored to react as though the idea had never occurred to him while the marine marched out the door looking quite pleased with himself.

As soon as the door slammed shut again, Penguin dropped the act with a muttered curse and turned his attention to his less than picture perfect dinner. Unsurprisingly, supper consisted of a slightly spilled bowl of soup, a slightly soggy chunk of bread, and a cup of water that was less full than it had been, same as it had been for the last few days.

"If you can get me out of these chains, why haven't you escaped yet?" As soon as the marine's footsteps could no longer be heard, Killer had focused back on Penguin with an intensity that made the slighter man blush. He sternly told himself the blush was because he was awkward, not because he was imagining that intensity in another situation. Penguin might've had a habit of lying to himself.

"I told you, I was waiting."

"I thought you were waiting for rescue." Penguin sniffed. The Heart Pirate knew getting people to underestimate him was one of his better skills and ordinarily he was pleased when he managed to be unassuming, but it had been a long two weeks and frankly he couldn't wait to get back to his crew where people appreciated that a pirate could be unassuming and competent.

"I can't help what you thought. Think about it, I wasn't exactly going to jump ship in the middle of the sea; I might not be an anchor, but I'm not a fish either."

"So you have a plan."

"I have several." He eyed Killer. "Plan C largely involves me setting you free, you clearing a path off the ship for us with your ocean-renowned fighting skills, and then us stealing a boat to escape." Killer thumped his head back against the wall of his cell, clearly unimpressed.

"Well, it's better than Plan D," he said defensively. "If we time it right, we should be able to get away in the confusion of docking. They'll expect you to try to escape after we're docked, but if we get out during docking, it might buy us some time. Are you a strong swimmer?" 

Killer nodded once but asked, "What's Plan D?" Penguin looked away, tugging his hat down out of habit.

"Plan C is better." A flat stare from the mask across the room forced him to add, "Plan D is like Plan C except I let you loose as a distraction and go back to Plan B."

"Explain how Plan C is better."

"They're going to look for you a lot harder than they're going to look for me, but any escape is still going to involve both of us avoiding a frankly absurd amount of marines to make it off whatever island we end up at. I stand a better chance of avoiding recapture if I stick with someone who's better at fighting than me. You stand a better chance of not dying if you stick with someone who knows how to avoid attention." Killer snorted, and Penguin chose to believe the sound was amused and not derisive. He continued thoughtfully, "Besides, do you know where your crew was headed and how to get there?"

"Do you?"

"Well, I know how to get where they should be heading next and the Straw Hats tend to cause a fuss wherever they go, so it should be relatively easy to track their progress if we miss them." One of the last updates from Bepo had involved their captain's new alliance with the Straw Hat Pirates. Law had apparently been lamenting his poor choices every minute since it was formed, which Shachi and Penguin found hilarious.

"The Straw Hats? What, did you change crews or something?"

"Oh, you haven't heard? The Heart Pirates and the Straw Hat Pirates have formed an alliance." Whatever reaction Penguin was expecting to get from Killer, it certainly wasn't the one he got. The moment the word "alliance" left his lips, his brawny neighbor stiffened as if he'd been stabbed. Penguin watched the man forcefully relax himself to his previous stance, realizing he must have hit a tender subject.

"And you trust them?" The sneer in Killer's voice caused Penguin's eyebrows to shoot towards his hairline.

"Of course not, but I trust Bepo," he said with a shrug. "And from what Bepo says, Straw Hat has a very unique idea of what an alliance means." He paused for dramatic effect. "Apparently, Straw Hat thinks that an alliance means we're friends. And I'm sure you remember from Sabaody how Straw Hat feels about his friends."

Killer tilted his head to the side, seemingly thinking this over. Penguin let him think, drinking his soup to keep from rambling and trying to keep his posture from betraying how desperate he was for the brawny pirate to agree.

"Fine." Penguin smothered the urge to pump his fist and cheer by sipping on his water.

"Great! So now we just have to wait for a port. Aren't you going to eat?" Killer huffed exasperatedly and tilted his head in a way that implied he was rolling his eyes.

"And how exactly do you propose I do that?" he asked, flexing his tightly chained hands. He looked between the Kid Pirate and the food tray a few times.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked doubtfully. The guy looked like he had a monstrous metabolism. Killer snorted and flopped himself back down so he was lying, face towards the ceiling. Penguin waited a minute, but there was no further response. "I suppose if I offered to help, you'd refuse."

Penguin eyed his new acquaintance for a moment longer, but when no response was forthcoming he shifted his attention to Killer's untouched dinner. He flopped himself onto his front and shoved his arm through the bars, straining until he could pull Killer's tray towards himself. At the sound of the scraping, Killer tilted his head towards Penguin as if to say, Really? but Penguin ignored him.

When the marine came back to collect their trays, he blinked at Killer's empty tray, then at Killer, before turning a glare on Penguin. Penguin shrugged and did his best to look innocent. The marine scowled at him as he collected the trays. As he straightened, the Heart Pirate made a rude gesture at him and then fluttered his fingers as the marine stormed out.

"Why do you bait him?" Penguin was surprised by the question, but he tried not to show it.

"Being imprisoned is boring."

As Penguin expected, when the guard shift in the hallway changed at 10pm, a marine entered the room just long enough to extinguish the lights. The only remaining light was a yellow beam filtering in through the porthole, enough light to make out shapes but not enough to see clearly.

"Hey," Penguin said quietly. "If I take the chains off your hands so you can eat, am I gonna regret it?" He could hear Killer shifting, metal chains clinking softly.

"Is that a hypothetical?" Killer eventually asked. Producing the bread he had stashed earlier from his boilersuit, Penguin grinned.

"Not really."

"Are you gonna get yourself caught and ruin the plan?"

"Of course not. The guards won't be back for hours now." Assuming they didn't change their procedures because of their new captive, Penguin thought but did not say.

In the dim light, Penguin quickly picked the cell locks and slipped out of his own cell and into Killer's. Quietly, he set to work on the manacles, one ear still straining to listen for any worrying sounds in the hallway. The manacles took only a little more time than the cell locks and Penguin scoffed derisively as he began to unlatch them.

One minute Penguin was crouched next to a large blond pirate and the next he was face down beneath him. Penguin wasn't sure whether it was the low light or if Killer had actually moved too fast to see. Either way, we was now largely crushed beneath the larger man, arms pinned behind his back and something that felt suspiciously like an elbow digging into his ribs.

"Kinky," he wheezed, and immediately lamented his inability to keep his mouth shut as Killer froze above him, increasing the pressure on his back temporarily. An awkwardly long moment passed before Penguin commented, "You know, much as I enjoy being pushed down by blond beefcakes, you're going to have to let me up if you want any water."

There was another pause and then the pressure began to ease off his back. The grip on him shifted until one large hand gripped his right bicep and the other slid up to grip the back of his neck firmly. Penguin decided not to focus on the warm, calloused hand on the bare skin of his neck. Instead, he focused on following the nonverbal directions that guided him up to his knees, facing away from Killer. Slowly, carefully, he reached into his boilersuit and withdrew a canteen.

"It's probably stale, but still better than nothing," Penguin told him, trying not to react to the obvious tension from the other man.

"Set it down." Killer's voice was oddly soft in the air between them, and Penguin realized with painful clarity exactly how close they were. He put down the canteen and was firmly guided back to the floor. Killer shifted above him, left hand still firm on the back of Penguin's neck, elbow pressing down on his back, and body trapping Penguin's arm against the floor.

Penguin was trying not to think about why Killer would trap him this way when he heard a click followed by a thud, and the reason became clear when he caught a glimpse of Killer's helmet in his peripherals. It was rapidly followed by Killer wolfing down the bread. After his first sip of water, Killer paused.

"How old is this water?" Penguin attempted to shrug, but wasn't sure how well it came across. Honestly he was busy appreciating being able to breathe. He was also trying desperately not to comment on the thumb that was idly stroking over his pulse point, since he suspected it was not intentional and this was not an ideal position to needle a supernova from.

"…Did they not search you before throwing you in a cell?" Killer asked after a moment, sounding slightly incredulous.

"Sure they did, they weren't thorough about it though," Penguin responded, smirking even though he knew Killer couldn't see it. "There are some advantages to being an unknown quantity, you know."

"You're a member of the Heart Pirates who wears your name on your hat, I wouldn't exactly call you an unknown quantity."

"Well sure, I'm recognizable as a member of the crew, but I'm no supernova. The marines don't pay much attention to my skills. Seriously, do you know what my role is?" he asked pointedly. Killer shifted but did not respond, which Penguin took as a victory.

"Anyway," Penguin continued briskly, "If you have anything else you need to do, I'd appreciate it if you'd get on with it so I can tie you back up."

"Kinky," Killer echoed him, and Penguin would have bet money he was smirking.

"Hm. Well, I wouldn't put it past the marines to change their routine now that you're here, so unless you're into me being tied up too I suggest we keep our rule-breaking as brief as possible." Killer hummed thoughtfully, but it wasn't more than a breath before Penguin hear the scrape of a helmet being picked up and the pressure on his back eased enough that he could stand. From there it was only a minute or two before they were both back where they were supposed to be.

The next day dawned much the same way as the previous fourteen, save for the addition of newfound company. He took full advantage of that as soon as he confirm that his taciturn roommate was awake by rambling on about whatever came to mind. By doing so, Penguin quickly learned several things. First, it was a lot more fun to talk to an audience than to himself even if the audience mostly elected not to respond. Second, Killer largely pretended to ignore Penguin unless he was talking about their plans for escape. Third, Killer was very bad at actually ignoring Penguin and had a variety of sighs that Penguin elected to treat as actual verbal responses (mostly because it was more entertaining that way).

One story in particular (about why Penguin no longer eats cotton candy) elicited a snort from his quiet companion that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. The sudden noise startled Penguin into silence for a fraction of a second, before he sputtered.

"Don't laugh at my pain! And anyway, let that be a lesson to you about accepting food from Shachi during June." He trailed off then, half hoping that Killer would make some further response beyond his suspiciously shaky breathing but no response was forthcoming.

The marine who brought it (disappointingly not his favorite target) pointedly put Killer's tray out of Penguin's reach, but the joke was on them. All it took was a promise on Penguin's part refill his canteen and Killer shifted enough to push the tray over to him. This was apparently either troublesome enough or undignified enough in the large man's eyes that when lunch and dinner were brought, Killer simply growled at the marines until they put the tray on the side of the cell nearest to Penguin. In return, Penguin stashed what food he could for that night on his person.

With the exception of occasional interruptions from the marines apparently checking to make sure Killer was still subdued and contained (they certainly never checked this often when it was just Penguin), the rest of the day passed in much the same fashion. Penguin talked, Killer huffed, and occasionally Killer asked for clarification on Plan C, though he refused to refer to it as such.

That night once the lights were out, Penguin beckoned Killer over to the row of bars that separated them, waving his lock picks enticingly. Killer made an aggrieved sound, but eventually relented and awkwardly shifted and rolled his way over. Penguin pointedly refrained from laughing, but he did allow himself a smirk.

"Is there a reason you made me come over here instead of going over there?" Killer asked, annoyance clear in his voice as he shoved his wrists towards the smaller man.

"Two, actually," Penguin replied calmly, and proceeded to enumerate them as he reached through the bars to work on the locks. "First, everything about this is risky. I don't need the added risk of the marines finding me outside my cell and possibly doing a more thorough search of my person. I mostly did it last night to get a better feel for the cell locks. Second, dignity is a luxury granted to nice people who don't smash the people helping them into the floor."

The moment one of the shackles unlatched there was a hand around Penguin's neck, not tight enough to choke but firm enough to indicate that it could. Penguin paused in releasing the other shackle and frowned at the blond across from him. Killer shrugged.

"I'm not nice."

"Clearly," Penguin answered drily as he finished unlocking the other shackle. Pocketing his lock picks, he produced food and water for the other man. He wasn't surprised when Killer's hand guided him to lay face down on the ground again.

"You're not as afraid of me as I would've expected," Killer commented with what sounded like a mouthful of bread. Penguin huffed.

"It's not like I don't have to deal with people stronger than me on a regular basis. If I was scared of everyone stronger than me, I never would've made it this far. Besides, for now you need me and that's a certain amount of security. I don't trust you, but I trust that you want out of here as much as I do." Killer hummed, and it sounded thoughtful. His thumb was stroking the skin of Penguin's neck again, and the smaller man wasn't sure if that was supposed to mean something.

Meal consumed and helmet replaced, Killer released Penguin. When the Heart Pirate sat up, Killer handed the flask back at him and there was something almost apologetic in his posture.

Later, once Penguin had helped Killer back into his chains, he eyed the Kid Pirate thoughtfully.

"You know, it's not like I don't get it," Penguin commented, flicking his own hat. "You could just ask me to turn around instead of manhandling me." Killer grunted at him, but Penguin could tell the brawny man wouldn't be trusting him that far anytime soon. Penguin sighed and let it go, it was better to sleep now since they would need to be ready at any moment in case it was time to spring their plan into action.

The time came the next evening after dinner. Penguin had goaded the marines into revealing they were nearly to a port when they dropped the food off, but it was almost an hour after their trays had been collected that he heard the telltale grind of an anchor. He had already unlocked both cells and Killer's chains but the blonde had left them in place until this cue. 

"Ready?" Penguin asked. He didn't get a response, but with the way Killer's head was tilted towards the door he'd bet it was because the blonde was listening for any approaching footsteps as he slipped out of his chains. Wordlessly, Killer looped some lengths of chain to use as makeshift weapons and moved towards the door Penguin following close behind.

This was the part of the plan Penguin was most anxious about. Killer was emphatic that he was going to retrieve his weapons prior to jumping ship. Penguin could either accommodate that or make his own way and, given that his best chance of survival still involved sticking with one of the strongest fighters of his generation, the choice was obvious. The guards posted outside the cells were efficiently dealt with, and Penguin was relieved to find that there were no immediately obvious alarms set off, though he kept his ears and eyes peeled.

Their progress was surprisingly stealthy, which Penguin credited to the bulk of the marines being above deck to assist with docking and loading. Still, it wasn't a surprise that they encountered marines during their search and by the time Killer found his weapons it felt as though they were fighting the entire ship, and maybe they were.

Penguin was under no illusions, Killer's search may have brought the full force of the ship down on them but he now Penguin's only hope for survival. Which was the only reason Penguin could give later for what happened next, beyond that he did somewhat like the grumpy blond.

Killer was locked in a fight with three marines who were a cut above the common sailor, hindered by the narrow confines of the hall when Penguin, watching their rear noticed a marine take aim at the massacre soldier. For the most part the marines had refrained from firearms since they were as likely to shoot each other as the pirates in the confines of the ship. Penguin didn't even blink before he shifted slightly, catching the bullet in his own right shoulder rather than let it hit Killer and possibly hinder the fighter's skills. He couldn't stop his grunt of pain at the impact but managed to fire off his own bullet from a gun he'd picked up at some point during their progress and down the ambitious marine.

He glanced over his shoulder and noted that Killer had finished his own fight and was progressing down the hall. Penguin followed, still covering the rear. The sight of open air had never been as welcome to Penguin as it was when they reached the end of the hall and found an exterior door.

"Let's go," Penguin muttered, pushing past Killer to throw himself off the ship and into the water. The wound in his shoulder meant the dive was not as graceful as it should have been, and the impact followed by cold saltwater left Penguin biting lip in an effort to keep quiet. Killer surfaced beside him and they began a series of swims, ducking below docks and swimming beneath boats until they were sure they weren't being followed by marines.

It was longer than Penguin would have liked before a long pause with ears straining did not yield the sound of marine boots stomping after them, but when they finally lost their pursuers (however temporarily) Penguin couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief. He immediately winced when the deep breath aggravated his throbbing shoulder. Killer's head swiveled sharply towards him.

"How bad?" he asked with what seemed to be his trademark brevity.

"Not great," Penguin bit out, humor having temporarily deserted him. "But it'll have to wait. We need to find a boat."

It didn't take long, not least of all because Penguin was in no mood to be picky. When they found one that was small enough for two people to sail but well stocked and sturdy enough for an open-sea voyage, it was enough for Penguin haul himself wincing over the side. A glance told him that he was losing a lot of blood (as if he couldn't already tell), but he didn't have time just now for proper treatment. He'd need to settle with staunching the bleeding just enough to give him some time to create a diversion.

Penguin zipped off his boilersuit and noticed Killer freeze beside him. Glancing at the larger man from beneath the brim of his hat as he bent to untangle his boots from the baggy fabric, he felt a flush start creeping up the back of his neck when it became apparent that the mask was focused intently in his direction. He ignored the stare as he eased black tank he wore beneath his coveralls off as gently as he could, biting his lip again to keep from crying out as the wound was jostled. He tossed the fabric towards Killer and moved to shift through a promising trunk that sure enough held clothes.

"Can you tear that in to strips please?" he asked when Killer caught the fabric apparently out of instinct alone as his helmet was still fixed firmly on Penguin. "I don't think I can manage it just now," he added with a wry smile over his shoulder before digging through the trunk with his good arm. A series a rips sounded behind him, and when he eventually fished something satisfactory from the trunk he turned to find a pile of black strips. After fashioning a makeshift bandage from the strips (not good enough to stop the bleeding but enough to buy him some time), he donned the dark, baggy shirt he'd found. Penguin shoved his feet back into his boots and looked around until he spotted a floppy hat.

"Get ready to sail and wait for me. And if you have time, try to find a medical kit or something I can use once we're out of the harbor." He turned his back to switch out his trademark hat with the one he'd just found and checked the pockets of his shorts. Confirming he had what he needed, he moved to jump from the boat to the dock.

"Where do you think you're going?" Killer stopped him with a hand tightly wrapped around his wrist (his good arm he couldn't help but notice). Forcing himself not to focus on the large calloused hand, Penguin turned halfway back.

"I told you there were advantages to being an unknown quantity. Who's gonna recognize me without my uniform?" he informed the blond. When the hand didn't immediately loosen its grip, he continued, "To get out of the harbor, we need a distraction. You're too recognizable to cause one without bringing an admiral down on our heads. I'm leaving my stuff here, so you know I'm coming back. You just stay here, get ready, and try not to get yourself arrested before I get back."

Killer tightened his grip as if he wanted to ask something else, but no question was forthcoming and eventually the larger man sighed and loosened his grip.


	2. Chapter 2

Killer let go of Penguin's wrist and watched as the smaller man hopped off the boat and hustled down the dock, slipping at the end into the stream of foot traffic and out of sight easily. Killer let his eyes linger a moment longer, but then turned to the task at hand. Much as it chafed him to follow orders, he wasn't the kind of stubborn that wouldn't do what was needed just because a man who was not his captain had told him he should.

Besides, he suspected the Heart Pirate needed the medical supplies more than he was admitting. Killer knew that Penguin had taken that bullet for him and it was enough to give him pause, even if he had chosen not to confirm it. Pirates don't take bullets for each other, especially not for their enemies. Penguin and Killer may have an uneasy truce, but at the end of the day they were still from rival crews. Sure, Penguin probably did it because he needed Killer strong enough to save his nicer-than-expected ass, but still.

And that was another thing, Killer thought to himself as he rifled through the boat without finding anything beyond a basic first aid kit. Killer had known the smaller man was fit—he'd felt lean muscles when restraining the other man. But knowing was not the same as seeing and now Killer was seeing. True, Penguin's frame was dwarfed by Killer's, but he was strong for his size and certainly had his fair share of… assets.

Killer shook his head vigorously to get off that train of thought. There was a more important matter at hand, namely the fact that he didn't think a band-aid would do much for a bullet wound and that was what this boat had. The boat was small, a one-room cabin with an adjoining bathroom and storage beneath the deck. It probably belonged to a weekend sailor who didn't anticipate needing to treat anything more serious than a splinter.

As stealthily as he could—and admittedly a man of his stature was not naturally inclined towards stealth—he made his way onto a ship that looked large enough to have a medical bay. A few people ended up unconscious on the way, but they didn't raise an alarm first and Killer therefore counted that as successfully sneaky.

Supplies secured and ship prepared for their flight, Killer turned to survey the docks just in time to catch an explosion at the other end of the port. He raised his eyebrows, impressed in spite of himself. Assuming that was Penguin's work of course, that would work well as a distraction. But it wasn't long before Killer caught plumes of smoke rising in the rapidly sky from multiple areas and next thing he knew boats at the far end of the port were shoving off as quickly as they could to avoid spreading fires.

As more an more boats began floating free in the harbor, a breathless Penguin suddenly appeared, dropped heavily into the boat, and began hustling Killer to help him get the boat moving as quickly as possible. A flurry of activity and they were mixing with the other boats in the harbor. Penguin all but shoved Killer into the cabin then, insisting he would give them away.

The other boats stopped not far from the port, but Killer waited until they were mostly out of sight before emerging to shove the bag of medical supplies at Penguin, who was looking a little more pale than Killer suspected was acceptable.

Penguin blinked at the sudden presence of the bag, before frowning at it as though he knew Killer had disobeyed his instructions about staying put. He opened his mouth (still red from biting it so much earlier, an unhelpful part of Killer pointed out) to say something and then clearly thought better of it. When he opened his mouth again, it was just to mutter a quiet thank you. Killer said nothing, because he didn't know what to say. What kind of pirate thanked a rival?

But then Penguin was peeling off his shirt again and there was his stomach and maybe they weren't the most impressive abs he'd ever seen but Killer still wanted to lick them. He shoved that thought away roughly and turned away before Penguin noticed him staring again. Watching for any possible pursuit was more helpful than ogling a man dressing a gunshot wound anyway.

Penguin disappeared into the cabin at some point and when he emerged he was wearing his trademark hat again and a shirt he'd presumably found in the cabin. It was still odd seeing him in clothes that didn't obscure his shape the way the boiler suit did, but Killer didn't comment on it. Instead he asked, "So are you ready to start navigating or should we continue to drift aimlessly?"

Penguin frowned at him and Killer returned his gaze steadily, even as he mentally shrugged. He wasn't going to pretend to be gentle just because Penguin was pretty. So instead of softening the words, he waited for Penguin to respond since the other man seemed largely incapable of letting a silence linger. Sure enough, the Heart Pirate heaved a dramatic sigh and turned to dig through an interior section of the coveralls that were still laid out to dry on the deck, muttering about ungrateful, unsympathetic monoliths. He emerged with a piece of vivre card perched on his palm, inching steadily across it. A corner of his mouth quirked up, seemingly pleased. Penguin pointed in the direction and Killer moved to steer the boat without comment.

When he returned from setting their course, he asked, "So what exactly did you do in the harbor?" Penguin shrugged and then clearly regretted it when a wince twisted his face.

"Whatever I could get away with, really. Unfortunately, I couldn't get anywhere near the marine ship but hopefully the mouth of the port is gummed up enough with the rest of them that they won't be able to get out for a while yet." That wasn't the answer Killer was looking for, but Penguin for all his normal blabbering hadn't pried into Killer's business at all so he let it go.

"And where exactly are we going?" Surprisingly, this caused Penguin to jerk his head to the side and go rigid.

"That's… I'm not… We'll be meeting up with my crew," he eventually settled on, before adding in a mutter Killer suspected he was not meant to hear, "…and hopefully they've moved on."

That was interesting. Did the Heart Pirates have a secret base? Killer considered pressing, but suspected he wouldn't get anything else out of Penguin just yet. For someone so chatty, Penguin was surprisingly reticent about important things.

"And do we have any idea how long that's going to take?" Penguin visibly relaxed when Killer moved on and shook his head resignedly.

"I'd have to know where we are to be able to even guess, and I didn't exactly have time to do any asking around when we were in port," he informed Killer wryly. Killer hummed in response and took his own turn in the cabin, cleaning up and eating for the first time that day.

When Killer stepped out onto the deck again, he was greeted with the sight of Penguin hunched over shivering where he sat propped up against the railing.

"I thought you were from North Blue?" The question provoked a scowl, Penguin apparently too miserable to respond with his normal humor.

"I also lost a lot of blood today," the reply was tart even if the last word was cut off with a shudder and Killer had to admit that the smaller man was still paler than he should've been.

Penguin frowned suspiciously when Killer sat next to him. He yelped in what could have been either surprise or pain when the larger man muscled him to sit between Killer's legs, back to the larger man's chest. Killer held him there with one arm as he used his free hand to remove his helmet. He felt more than saw Penguin stiffen when he saw the helmet land on the deck next to them and in response he wrapped his other arm around him and planted his chin on the smaller man's head, effectively caging him in and preventing him from turning. He felt as Penguin drew several breaths as though to speak before releasing them silently.

Honestly, the pretense was weak and Killer knew it. Penguin sat stiffly, tension in every line of his body. Killer tried and failed to think of something to say to break the tension; words were Penguin's strength, not his. Instead they sat in silence until the smaller man relaxed incrementally and his shivers ceased. 

"We should take turns on watch. I'll take the first watch," Killer commented, and felt a tendril of amusement in his chest when Penguin immediately tensed up again. But either exhaustion or blood loss had taken its toll on the smaller man, because it wasn't long before he relaxed again and Killer wasn't surprised to feel him go slack with sleep soon after.

He woke Penguin up a few times to confirm or correct their heading, but let him sleep otherwise, dozing in fits and spurts himself until the sun was rising. He'd replaced his helmet at some point during the night, too uneasy without it in the open. Once the sun had risen fully, Killer nudged the sleeping man awake, unwinding his arms to allow the man to get up freely.

"I'm getting breakfast," Killer informed him, and Penguin enthusiastically agreed that food was a good idea. It turned out neither of them was a passable cook, but there was enough food that they wouldn't starve at least and that was enough. Killer ate in the cabin, back braced against the door, and Penguin ate on the deck, lounging in the sun. This set a precedent for the long days that followed.

As it turned out, Penguin was perfectly content to spend entire days and nights on the deck in the open air. When questioned, he shrugged and reminded Killer that he lived on a submarine and was therefore predisposed to take what fresh air and natural light he could. Penguin then predictably launched into a series of stories about life on a submarine, his voice a pleasant background noise as Killer worked or kept watch. Penguin was recovering quickly, but Killer continued doing the bulk of work around the ship as the Heart Pirate insisted that submarines were completely different and he wouldn't want to make a mistake. Killer suspected the Heart Pirate wasn't playing up his incompetence for his own benefit, but since sitting still made Killer restless he didn't mind doing all the physical labor.

Emerging from the cabin again after yet another bland dinner, Killer eyed him and voiced the question that had been lingering in his mind for a while now.

"Did you mean what you said back in the cell?" Killer asked, watching Penguin closely. The Heart Pirate was checking a seemingly endless series of pockets in his boiler suit, disposing of the things that their swim had damaged beyond repair. To Killer it looked as though very little had actually been damaged, which made sense if Penguin had anticipated swimming in it. Penguin seemed to anticipate a lot of things. 

"You'll need to more specific," Penguin informed him, glancing up with amusement. "You may have noticed, but I say a lot of things."

"About enjoying being pushed down by blond beefcakes," Killer clarified obligingly. Penguin choked and fumbled whatever was in the pocket he was investigating, and Killer was vaguely surprised to see a flush creeping up his neck.

"I mean… I don't… Well, normally I'd…" Penguin cut himself off forcibly and took a deep breath before starting over, the visible part of his face dark red. "I'm certainly not opposed."

Killer didn't allow himself to react, trying to figure out how genuine Penguin was being. Killer may be a pirate, but this was one thing he had no interest in unless it was being enthusiastically offered. He was reminded, watching Penguin shift uncomfortably, just how disparate their strength was. It was easy to forget when Penguin ordered him around or when he flirted through iron bars, but here when Killer couldn't tell whether the fidgeting was embarrassment or fear he was reminded again.

And suddenly he didn't know what to say, how to express himself so Penguin would understand this was an offer and not a demand. So he said nothing, only hummed noncommittally and went to adjust a sail that didn't need it.

It wasn't until much later that evening that Penguin came and stood next to Killer, closer than normal, hands fisted in his pockets, and head carefully turned away. Killer glanced at him, unsure. The other man had been unusually quiet since their awkward conversation earlier. Penguin took a deep breath and blew it out. He squared his shoulders, turned so he was facing Killer, and then, while sliding a hand onto Killer's chest,

"That was an invitation you know." Killer didn't ask what he meant; he could guess.

The sun was long since set, but the light of the stars and moon in the open sky meant that they could see each other clearly. So he wrapped one arm around Penguin's waist and hauled the smaller man into the cabin. He heard the hitch of Penguin's breath followed by an unmistakable snort of laughter.

With the door closed, the darkness was absolute and Killer navigated them to the bed from memory, depositing Penguin there and looming over him for a breath before leaning back. Up until this point the bed had been largely unused, Penguin preferring to sleep outdoors (weather permitting) and Killer preferring to keep an eye on his companion.

"What—" the question cut off when the mechanism that released Killer's helmet clicked, amazingly loud in the closeness of the cabin. A thud as it was deposited on the floor conveniently close, and then Killer was mouthing his way across Penguin's neck and jaw in search of his mouth.

When Killer found it, he reveled in the feel of lips that were more chapped than his own and hands that gripped unapologetically at his arms, fingers digging in even as their owner emitted a whine that sent a jolt through Killer. For a long minute, they just kissed, bodies still and breathing less steady than it should have been. For Killer, it had been a long time since he'd been with someone he liked enough to kiss, enough to risk revealing his face even this much. Vaguely, he wondered if Penguin realized the significance, or if he thought it was weird how much Killer was enjoying kiss him. But the soft sounds Penguin made when Killer changed the angle of the kiss and the way his hands slid up the mismatched skin of Killer's arms to settle on his shoulders told him enough.

Almost reluctantly, he separated their lips so he could slide his mouth down. He shifted, biting briefly at Penguin's neck before moving to push the smaller man's shirt up and map his torso with his tongue. Above him, Penguin was releasing a steady stream of sounds, bitten off words and half-formed syllables. It wasn't surprising given how vocal the man was the rest of time, but Killer still found the evidence of his partner's enjoyment distracting in the best way.

He moved back up to find his mouth again, wanting to swallow the sounds directly from Penguin's mouth. As he did so, Penguin's hands moved from his shoulders to his chest. The hand above his heart gripped as if surprised to find the thundering of his heart there. The other continued around to Killer's back, urging the larger man closer. Killer obliged, making room for himself between Penguin's legs, one of which immediately hitched up around his waist. Killer caught the leg in one hand, holding it there as he ground down into his partner, both of them groaning into the kiss.

Killer found that having started kissing Penguin, he was unable to stop. It wasn't until Penguin broke away enough to mutter about clothes that Killer could pull back. Even then it was only to lean up and drag off a shirt that had never felt this inconvenient before. What followed was a tangle of limbs pushing and pulling until they somehow managed to get the rest of their clothes off, though Killer couldn't have explained exactly how it happened. But they managed it and then Killer pressed Penguin back down into the mattress and resumed kissing him. Yes, he thought with a groan, the feel of hot skin against his was leagues better than the tight confines of pants. He bit at Penguin's mouth until he ran out of breath and once he did Killer pressed his forehead to the smaller man's as they panted, breath mingling.

Killer had one forearm braced beside Penguin's head while his other hand wandered, groping freely. Penguin's hands moved with more purpose, sliding between them to move things along. Killer approved of this progression and quickly added his own hand to the mix. Between the two of them, it didn't take long before Penguin was groaning out his release. Killer wasn't far behind, mouthing at Penguin's jaw again with a groan of his own.

After, Killer shifted just enough that he wouldn't crush the smaller man, draping himself casually and effectively leaving Penguin pinned. The Heart Pirate didn't appear to notice at first, busy catching his breath. But once he did, Killer felt tension come crawling back into the body beneath his and frowned.

"We should clean up," Penguin muttered after a minute when Killer could feel his heartbeat was returning to a normal pace. Killer bit back a sigh and tightened his grip on the other man.

"In a minute," he retorted, gently biting Penguin's shoulder for emphasis. The other man jumped, then snorted a laugh.

"I didn't take you for a cuddler. Or are you gearing up for another round?" Killer groaned, this time in annoyance rather than pleasure and moved so he was squarely over the other man again forearms braced to either side of his head.

"Are you incapable of incapable of enjoying the afterglow or are you still making up for two weeks in a cell with only marines for company?" he asked, and kissed the other man before he could respond. He enjoyed the resulting silence almost as much as Penguin's idly roaming hands. When Penguin's hands began to move with more purpose, he pulled back reluctantly.

"Maybe later," he told Penguin before rolling to the edge of the bed to retrieve his helmet. In response to the other man's irritated huff as he shoved the helmet over his head he added, "We need to check the heading again soon anyway."

He stepped into the bathroom long enough to wipe himself off. When he returned to the cabin, Penguin had retrieved his own hat and turned a light on and the sight of him there in the yellow light of a lamp was enough to make Killer pause. Penguin, who had been stretching like a cat on the bed, noticed the pause and tilted his head towards him.

"What?" he asked. What indeed, Killer thought, looking at his own handiwork. Red swollen lips, a handful of bites and bruises Killer didn't remember leaving, and the drying evidence of their previous activities on a lean stomach. Looking at Penguin lying there, totally unabashed was stirring up Killer's interest again.

"I'm revising what I meant by later," Killer informed him, and it startled a laugh out of Penguin. Despite this, the younger man stood and slipped past him into the bathroom while Killer located and replaced his clothes.

From that point on, neither of them was shy about initiating things. After all, it was just the two of them on a small boat with very little in the way of entertainment. Why shouldn't Penguin clamber on to Killer's lap with motivated hands when the sun was warm and the breeze was gentle? Why shouldn't Killer reach out for him late at night when the air was dark and close?

If Penguin was initially surprised by how tactile Killer was, he certainly didn't seem to mind. Killer was glad for it, he enjoyed crowding Penguin against things to see if he could cause the smaller man's rambling stories to falter. He enjoyed the feeling of Penguin leaning against him when he dozed on deck. And he especially enjoyed the feeling of trust that was developing regardless of his will.

Not once had Penguin reached for Killer's head, whether or not the helmet was there. Oh, he would kiss back enthusiastically if Killer kissed him, but he never tried to grip his head or touch his face. Even when Killer had gone down on him in the dark of the cabin, Penguin's scrabbling hands had moved over arms and shoulders but no higher. And in the light, his hands never traced over the helmet, idly searching for the mechanism that would release it as had happened on occasion with previous partners. In return, Killer respected the ubiquitous presence of Penguin's hat, even when the brim obscured the sight of Penguin's spit-slick mouth returning a favor from the previous night.

And the more he warmed up to Penguin, the more willing he was to contribute to conversations. Nothing important, nothing secret, but he'd contribute the occasional anecdote when Penguin reminded him of something he'd seen on an island a few months back or ask Penguin a question when he mentioned something interesting in passing.

To sum up, Killer was more comfortable with Penguin than he was with anyone outside of his crew, and maybe even some of them. So when Penguin continued to be closed mouthed about their heading, he gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't press.

Even when he walked onto deck one day, frowning down at his palm and then at the horizon. Killer followed his gaze and noted a vague shape, maybe an island. A glance down showed that their course was no longer in line with the vivre card.

"Well?" he prompted, when it became clear Penguin was trying to make a decision. "Which way?"

Penguin hesitated, but pointed in the direction they were already going, towards the island.

"We can't catch up to them if they're below the surface and we'll need to resupply in any case," he said quietly, shoulders slumping. Killer assumed the card was for one of his crewmates, which didn't help him with the mystery of where they were heading. He rubbed Penguin's arm in an attempt to be reassuring and went to man the helm since he could now see their destination.

It didn't take long for the shape to resolve itself into an elephant. Penguin grinned at him when he froze at the realization.

"It's called Zou," he supplied, "We're still a ways out, but I think we're supposed to tie up by one of the rear legs."

"You've never been here before?" Killer asked, because he figured that was as good a place to start as any when confronted with an elephant the size of an island. Penguin shook his head.

"Nah, it's pretty much a secret," Penguin shrugged, unconcerned. 

"And you're sure it's safe?" Killer tore his gaze from the elephant to find Penguin already studying him.

"As safe as any place in the new world," Penguin answered after a moment, walking over to lean companionably against Killer's arm. "My crew were already here the last time I talked to them, so I'm sure it's fine."

Despite his reassuring words, Penguin started fidgeting the closer they got. When they finally tied up the boat at right rear leg Penguin stared up apprehensively, biting his lip as though unsure of his next move.

"Well?"

"I was hoping they'd still be here," Penguin admitted. Killer watched him intently, but the Heart Pirate didn't seem inclined to elaborate.

"It's not like you don't know where they're going," he tried, wanting to piece together exactly what was making Penguin uncomfortable so he knew whether he needed to be ready for a fight.

"I do," Penguin conceded before nervously adding, "But before we go after them we'll need to resupply, and you're not really supposed to be here so…"

He was interrupted by a rope ladder descending towards them at speed. Penguin jumped back to avoid being hit even as the rope ladder came to a halt a few feet above their heads.

"Well, that looks like an invitation," Killer told him, steadying the smaller man with one hand even as he squinted up the ladder suspiciously. He didn't know anything about this island, and Penguin was being unusually reticent. The Kid Pirate wasn't necessarily worried, but Penguin's behavior was making him wary at least.

"It sure does," Penguin agreed, looking slightly relieved, although whether it was due to the apparent sign of welcome or the knowledge that he wouldn't have to scale the leg freehand was up for debate.

Almost immediately after they began climbing, someone at the top presumably began raising it. They kept climbing because it would take forever to ascend otherwise, and for once Penguin didn't feel the need to fill the silence. Killer was hoping that was because he was focused on not falling off and plunging to his death and not because he was worried about what was at the top. They were almost halfway up when Penguin did say something.

"So, you know Bepo, right?" Killer hummed in agreement, because it would've been hard to miss a polar bear as a first mate even if Killer hadn't made it a point to familiarize himself with the crews of the rest of the worst generation back when he was first considering alliances. He pointedly focused on Penguin when he continued, "This is, uh, his birthplace, which is how we know about it. But the minks are by default very removed from the wider world, so their behavior may come across a bit… odd at first."

Killer considered asking for clarification, but he supposed he would find out soon enough anyway.

When they finally reached the top, Killer just stared for a moment, fascinated despite himself. From the slack set of Penguin's mouth, he was feeling much the same even if he had been somewhat more prepared for the sight that greeted them. A rapidly approaching figure snapped Killer out of it though, and he shoved Penguin behind him. Penguin squawked a protest even as she drew to a halt just out of range of Killer's blades. The part of Killer not focusing on possible attacks noted that the figure was, he assumed, a mink. She looked like she may have been some sort of dog. Her head tilted as she examined him.

"Penguin?" she asked at length, frowning at Killer.

"That's me!" Penguin announced, shoving at Killer's arm in an attempt to get around him. The woman leaned sideways, attempting to peer at Penguin even as Killer shifted to keep Penguin shielded.

"Killer, move, you're making it very difficult to have a conversation. What did you think we were going to do?" Penguin sounded exasperated. Killer acknowledged the reasonableness of the sentiment and reluctantly stopped restraining Penguin even as his protective instincts flared.

Killer frowned behind his mask, startled by his own reaction. It had been a long time since he'd felt protective of anyone other than Kid and that was a very different feeling since Kid was stronger than him. Usually Killer needing to protect Kid meant shit had hit the fan in catastrophic ways that called for desperate actions (as in the fight with the Red Haired Pirates). Killer shook his thoughts off, not wanting to be distracted as Penguin walked in front of him. 

"I'm Ellen," the woman introduced herself. And then she was leaning forward and kissing Penguin's cheek and a growl escaped from Killer before he could tamp down on it. Penguin frowned at him over his shoulder and Killer refused to look at him, not wanting to admit that apparently he also was finding a long-dormant jealous streak. Ridiculous. Penguin no more belonged to him than he belonged to Penguin.

That didn't mean he wanted to watch women kiss him though, apparently. For her part, the woman just tilted her head at him again.

"They didn't mention you were bringing your mate with you," she said, and suddenly Penguin was flushing bright red and sputtering out denials. Ellen sniffed once and glanced at them doubtfully but didn't say anything else. Penguin recovered enough to introduce Killer, and Killer noted that he didn't say anything about how they met. He just said they were travelling together.

Ellen and Penguin began walking as they chattered back and forth about nothing in particular, leaving Killer to trail cautiously behind them. Killer eyed their surroundings and noted the unmistakable evidence of recent battles. The number of minks they saw increased as they walked, seemingly heading towards a center of activity.

"We're still rebuilding after the recent fights, so we're a bit tight on space. We were expecting you, so we have a room set aside, but…" she trailed off, eyeing Penguin doubtfully.

"One room's fine," Killer told her absently, focusing on the crowd around them but finding no traces of hostility in the glances thrown their way. Penguin flushed bright red again but didn't contradict him. She led them through a building and showed them a room before leading them off again so Penguin could contact his crew.

And it turned out the kissing was, for lack of a better term, a thing. Every single person on this island Penguin was introduced to kissed him on the cheek and given the lack of surprise displayed by the Heart Pirate, Killer supposed it was something the polar bear had warned the crew about. He tried his hardest not to think about Bepo kissing Trafalgar, largely because he was trying to look intimidating and he didn't laughing would help.

The affectionate greetings were solely bestowed on Penguin and Killer wasn't sure whether it was his attempts to look scary or the helmet shielding his face that ultimately saved him from similar treatment. Regardless, he was grateful, since he somehow doubted that Penguin would appreciate him decapitating one of their hosts.

Penguin's call with the other Heart Pirates involved mutual assurances of wellbeing followed by Penguin listening to a series of lighthearted complaints about trivial matters until Trafalgar cut in to tell him the plan hadn't changed, if Penguin had questions he could direct them to the minks, now get off the line so they could continue their strategy meeting before the Straw Hats got distracted again. Killer had largely been ignoring the conversation up to that point, but his focus sharpened at that. The way Trafalgar had spoken of a plan made him think there was more than a casual trip, especially since it sounded like the Straw Hats were not only involved, but actually on the submarine with the Heart Pirates. What was he about to be involved in?

Killer made more of an effort to pay attention to the conversation after that. Once the everyone was gathered around a fire eating, the minks relayed recent events, both theirs and those of their recent pirate guests. By the end of the tale he wasn't sure whether to envy or pity Trafalgar for his alliance with the Straw Hats. The big shock came when a mink casually mentioned the Heart Pirates' next destination, though he managed to contain his reaction. Penguin had never mentioned they were heading to Wano.

When the serious news was over and the assembled crowd had moved to lighter topics, Penguin pushed a heaping plate at him. Killer hadn't even noticed the smaller man setting things aside as they had been passed around the fire. He jerked his head in the direction of the room they'd been given.

"Go eat. Let me know when you're done." Killer blinked at him but accepted the plate and returned to the small room they had been shown earlier. As he ate, he tried not to focus on the warm feeling in his gut.

By the time he returned to the fire, the crowd had grown thinned and livelier. Killer quickly determined the cause to be the alcohol now being passed around. In his absence, the seats on either side of Penguin had become occupied by a pair of canine minks talking over each other with much in the way of dramatic gesticulation. Penguin's head bounced from side to side, a bemused smile on his face as he listened intently. When Killer drew near, it sounded like they were lamenting the loss of Brook. He shrugged it off as unimportant and touched Penguin's shoulder as he passed, glancing down. Penguin glanced up at him, face brightening to a wide grin when he saw it was Killer. That was almost as surprising to him as the minks' obsession with Brook. Killer was not someone people were happy to see, unless you counted Kid and the rest of the crew.

Killer lingered on the fringes of the circle around the fire, feeling tense and awkward. He was grateful when Penguin came and led him away, though he'd never admit it. They were quiet on the way back to the room, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Once they were both inside and Killer had locked the door, Penguin started stripping, complaining all the while about the humidity. Killer shrugged and followed suit until they were down to hat and helmet respectively. Watching a man clad in only a hat clamber into bed should have been weird, but Killer supposed that at some point they'd gotten used to it. He flicked off the light and followed suit, placing his helmet on the floor beside them, unsurprised when Penguin leaned over him to deposit his hat beside it. 

"The Kid Pirates are in Wano," Killer blurted into the darkness when Penguin's hands started roving. Unsurprisingly, they froze, and Penguin thought for a moment before responding.

"Are they working for Kaido?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Killer growled, and he felt Penguin's fingers flex unconsciously at the vibration.

"No," he bit out, and then amended it. "I mean, we weren't. I don't think Kid would, but I don't know what's happened since… But he's got a couple of others from the worst generation under him." Penguin heaved a heavy sigh and wrapped his arm a little more firmly around Killer's chest.

"What a mess this is going to turn out to be. I really hope we're not enemies yet." Killer hummed. At some point their crews would be enemies, Penguin understood that as well as he did. It was the nature of being pirates.

"We're not enemies right now, but we're not allies either," he supplied. "At the moment I think that's about all we can really expect." Penguin snorted and rolled on top of Killer, crossing his arms over his chest and resting his chin on them so Killer could feel his breath on his neck when he responded.

"If we're not enemies and not allies, then what do you call this?" he asked. His tone was light, but his body was tense. Killer slid his hands over the smooth skin of Penguin's ribs.

"Interesting," he suggested, Penguin snorted a laugh but didn't relax. Softer, he added, "Nice. You're nice. If we do end up as enemies, it'll be business, not personal." Penguin did relax then. He didn't say anything, but he craned forward to kiss Killer and his face was hot when he did. The kiss was soft, tender in a way they usually weren't. When Penguin pulled back, Killer followed him kissing him again. 

"Besides, I'd rather not have you planning to be my enemy while we're in bed," Killer said when they finally broke apart, just to break the vulnerability of the moment.

"Oh?" Penguin asked, sounding suddenly delighted. "Do you have some other planning for me to do in bed then? Actually, now that you mention it, I do have some plans of my own, if you'd like to hear them." As it turned out, Killer did want to hear them and then implement some of them so by the time they were ready to sleep they were both pleasantly sweaty.

In the morning, the minks loaded them up with supplies and helped them get back down to their boat. They'd offered to let them stay and rest a while longer, but Killer and Penguin were both anxious to get back to their crews and saw no sense in wasting more time than necessary. Killer huffed at the affectionate goodbyes of the mink tribe but largely avoided them by busying himself with supplies.

Preparing to sail didn't take long on such a small boat, so the sun was still rising when they set off, Penguin grinning wide as he peered at the vivre card in his hand and steered the boat after it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I definitely took some liberties with the minks for my own amusement.


	3. Chapter 3

Penguin watched Zou shrinking in the distance with the particular mix of anticipation and apprehension he always felt before a battle. Law had a plan, as he always did, and the Straw Hats were destroying it piecemeal, as they seemed to do without any actual intent. Which meant by the time Penguin caught up to the Heart Pirates, Law would likely be on contingency plan three, and that meant that what little information Penguin had been able to glean from the minks would likely be useless by then. So, he should probably stop worrying about any of that just yet. He and Killer had to get to Wano first in any case.

Glancing next to him at Killer standing to watch the sea ahead of them, Penguin sighed. Things with Killer were getting a little more complicated than anticipated without worrying about Wano. Even if the Kid Pirates weren't working for Kaido, Penguin had a suspicion Law would not welcome Kid's first mate on the Polar Tang. Especially if there were Straw Hats already involved. He shook the thought off—no sense borrowing trouble—and shoved his hands into his pockets. His fingers bumped into something he'd gotten on Zou and he felt a smirk replace his frown.

Well, no sense in worrying about the future, so may as well enjoy the present. And distractions were something Penguin was good at.

With another glance at Killer, Penguin turned and went into the cabin. Pulling the jar out of his pocket and tossing it on the bed, he set to work stripping down. He clambered onto the bed, made himself comfortable, and got to work. It was another twenty minutes before Killer came to find him, probably wondering what the sun-loving Penguin was doing inside when the weather was beautiful. By then, Penguin was plenty worked up. He smirked when the larger man froze.

"I picked this up yesterday," he informed Killer, wiggling the jar briefly. "Care to join me?"

Killer shifted forward and back slightly, as if he was weighing his options. After a moment he crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. The effect was clearly meant to be casual, despite the obvious tension in his posture.

"I'm tempted to just watch," he informed Penguin. Penguin grinned in response; that felt like a challenge if ever he'd heard one. And who was Penguin to back down? So he put on a show, playing up little gasps and moans, writhing on his own fingers. In a flash of inspiration, he brought one hand up to his mouth, ignoring the unpleasant taste in favor of moaning around his fingers.

As expected, that was the tipping point for Killer, who was suddenly looming above him on the bed. Penguin wasn't sure what Killer's oral fixation was about, but he certainly wasn't going to complain when he could use it to get what he wanted.

"You are such a tease," Killer growled, hands planted on either side of Penguin's head, effectively caging him in. Penguin let his hand fall from his mouth, feeling smug as he watched Killer grab the jar to slick himself up.

"Is that a complaint?"

"Dunno," Killer sounded distracted as he manhandled Penguin to a more convenient position before fingers that felt more perfunctory than sensual tested the job Penguin had done.

"I'm good to go," Penguin informed him, grabbing at Killer's arms. "You took longer to get in here than expected."

Killer made a sound that was almost pained before nudging something that was definitely not fingers into him. Penguin felt his breath hitch and bit his lip. He thought that maybe he should be embarrassed about being fully nude and stretched out beneath a man that was as clothed as possible in the circumstances, but honestly being shameless was more fun (and besides, aren't pirates shameless by nature?). He let Killer hook an elbow beneath one of his knees to improve the angle, helpfully moving his hips to encourage Killer to move. Despite assurances both verbal and not, Killer started slow, with shallow thrusts.

Penguin kept up a steady stream of muttered encouragements as Killer moved experimentally, testing reactions as he slowly built into a rhythm. By the time he began moving smoothly, Killer's head was also moving, pressing first against Penguin's face and then his neck in a bizarre nuzzling of smooth helmet. Penguin wouldn't have minded except occasionally the edge caught painfully on his shoulder. 

"Just turn off the light and kiss me," Penguin muttered absently, cutting off abruptly when Killer's hips stuttered. He felt the blonde draw breath as if to speak and then release it soundlessly. But then he was reaching over to turn off the light and Penguin heard the thud of a helmet on the ground. And then he was back, unsurprisingly biting Penguin's neck and jaw as he found his rhythm again. 

Penguin released the grip he had on Killer's shoulder, intending to reach between them to help himself along, but Killer caught his hand and pressed it to the bed beside Penguin's head, lacing their fingers. Penguin opened his mouth to complain, but Killer's mouth was suddenly there, demanding. In an impressive feat of multitasking, Killer somehow managed to catch his other hand and pin it with the arm he was using to hold Penguin's leg without ceasing any of his other movements. Which left Penguin feeling totally claimed, and that was good. That was very good. That was… not enough.

"Fuck me like you mean it," he demanded after a minute of slow, steady thrusting that was doing nothing at all to push Penguin closer to the edge. He felt Killer grin against his mouth, and in a split section of distraction wondered if Killer wore the mask to hide what seemed to be a terrible poker face.

"I thought you liked teasing," Killer told him, slowing the pace further. Penguin whined.

"Not when I've been on edge this long," Penguin managed, flexing his hands against Killer's grip, testing but not really trying to free them.

"And whose fault is that?" Killer asked, punctuating the question with a playful nip to Penguin's neck and a slightly harder thrust that made Penguin groan.

"Fuck me hard now, and next time we can do whatever you want," he offered. Killer pretended to consider this for a minute.

"Deal," he agreed before claiming Penguin's mouth again, beginning to increase both his pace and the strength of his thrusts. It didn't take long after that, for either of them. Penguin finished first, the blonde's movements growing erratic soon after.

That was new, Penguin thought vaguely once Killer had finished with a groan bitten into Penguin's shoulder. He'd never come untouched before. He winced as Killer slowly lowered his leg back to a more normal position.

"Alright?" Killer asked, running a soothing hand the length of his torso. Penguin snorted.

"Very. Leg's just bit stiff from staying up that long." He stretched, Killer's hand rubbing apologetically at his hip. As if he had anything to be apologetic about, Penguin thought with an eye roll. Then he remembered their deal, and perked up.

"So, whatever you want next time, huh?" Killer grunted at him. Penguin thought for a moment, before offering some suggestions. He wasn't surprised when Killer didn't actually respond, instead choosing to roll half on top of Penguin and bury his face in the smaller man's chest, catching one of Penguin's hands in his. Penguin rubbed at the blonde's shoulder absently as he continued to offer increasingly filthy ideas, used to Killer's post-coital cuddling tendencies by now.

"You've got a real filthy mouth on you," Killer offered eventually. Penguin shrugged.

"Yeah, but you like it." Killer huffed against his chest, breath hot.

"How'd you come to that conclusion?" Penguin didn't have to think to find an answer.

"You've never once told me to shut up." It was true. The Kid Pirate had huffed and pretended to ignore Penguin, but he'd never once told him to stop talking. Penguin knew exactly how much he talked. Even Shachi occasionally got fed up with Penguin's stream-of-consciousness monologues. Almost everyone eventually asked Penguin to just stop for a while. He didn't listen to them of course (except occasionally Law, if his captain looked especially stressed); he wouldn't be Penguin if he let people tell him what to do. But he noticed when they said it.

Killer hummed, as if Penguin hadn't just admitted something a little too personal for their relationship, and absently stroked his thumb along Penguin's. Penguin opened his mouth, realized he wasn't sure what he was about to say but he would probably regret it, and closed it again. Instead he shoved at Killer's shoulder.

"Let me go clean myself up," he demanded and retreated to the bathroom. When he emerged, dressed once more, Killer had donned his helmet again but stripped off the shirt Penguin had no doubt stained. Penguin threw a cheeky salute at him and went to check the heading.

The next time came the next afternoon, when the sun was warm but not sweltering. And what Killer wanted, as it turned out, was none of the things Penguin suggested. Instead, Penguin found himself stripped down on deck riding a fully clothed Killer in broad daylight.

"Is the clothing thing a kink of your or what?" Penguin asked breathlessly, gripping Killer's forearms as the brawny man's fingers probably left bruises on Penguin's hips. Killer's helmet tilted up from where he'd been watching Penguin move.

"Don't think so," he commented, and Penguin frowned. He sounded more collected than Penguin felt. He released Killer's arms to grab at his shirt instead.

"Then, off," he ordered. Killer huffed, but obediently lifted his arms when Penguin dragged the shirt up and off. Penguin nodded once in satisfaction, and leaned forward to brace himself on Killer's chest as he started moving again.

"So, what are your kinks then?" he asked, aiming for conversational, but possibly missing when Killer suddenly broke his rhythm by thrusting up. Killer's helmet was tilted down again, watching as he stroked hands over Penguin's straining thighs. Penguin suspected he was smirking under there, the smug bastard.

"You haven't figured them out?" Killer deflected. Penguin tried to laugh and groan at the same time. The result was less than sexy than he would've hoped, but Killer didn't seem to mind if the way his hands gripped just a bit tighter was any way of judging.

"You like my mouth. You like pushing me down and marking me." Penguin ground his hips in a circle for a moment, breathing heavily. "You like when I enjoy myself. And I'm pretty sure you like me telling you about it. I know things you like; it doesn't mean I know your kinks."

"Mm. You got any kinks?" Killer asked, hands encouraging Penguin to start moving in earnest again. Penguin gasped as he complied.

"Plenty. I'll try most things once." Killer took Penguin in hand as he encouraged him to continue. "A lot of stuff depends on the partner. Like, I think it'd really work for me if you tied me up. Like yesterday when you just held me down. You could tie me up and… shit… fuck my mouth. It's too bad we don't have any toys or you could—fuck fuck fuck—yes." Penguin hissed and felt his nails dig into Killer's chest as he came, leaving short red furrows. He had some vague intention of soothing the marks with his mouth but he was suddenly on his back, Killer on his knees above him, furiously working himself.

Penguin blinked, momentarily surprised at the abrupt change in position. He recovered quickly, fighting a smirk when he realized what Killer was up to. Instead, he trailed a hand up to press a hand to a particularly large bite mark from yesterday.

"Gonna mark me again?" he asked. Killer did, groaning before lowering himself onto the deck next to Penguin, typically lethargic.

"You know," Penguin commented idly, ignoring the cooling mess on his chest and chin, "I don't think I've gotten off this much since I was a teenager." Killer raised his head from the deck to eye Penguin in apparent disbelief.

"That's what you have to say about it?" Penguin laughed.

"What? You're telling me you were getting off every single day?" Killer let his helmet thump back onto the deck.

"Of course not. Not like we have a whole lot else to do right now though." Penguin jabbed him with an elbow.

"Flatterer." 

"If that was you digging for compliments, you suck at it," Killer huffed at him, grumpy.

"If I was digging for compliments, I'd ask what you think of my sucking," Penguin laughingly informed him, just to watch him wince.

"That was terrible. Do you want to get cleaned up first?"

"And they say chivalry is dead," Penguin joked as he got up and ducked into the cabin.

Their journey continued in much the same vein, with the exception of the weather gradually worsening as they approached Wano. Their plan, insofar as they had one, was to get as close as they safely could and wait for the Heart Pirates to pick them up.

That plan went out the window when they found the Victoria Punk anchored just beyond where the seas got truly choppy. Killer perked up in a way Penguin hadn't seen before and was struggling to describe in any way other than cute. For once, Penguin wisely kept his mouth shut.

It wasn't until Killer threw a rope up to the Victoria Punk and Heat fastened it to the rail, connecting the two vessels that Penguin felt anxiety punch him in the gut. This was it, Killer no longer needed Penguin and the only further incentive not to renegade on their deal was whatever good feelings he had developed towards the Heart Pirate. Given how against alliances the blond had proven, he was not convinced that that would be enough and with the suspicious way the rest of the Kid Pirates were eyeing him, it seemed as though the distrust of alliances was not limited to Killer.

But Killer's posture was open, not as tense as Penguin would expect if he was planning a betrayal. So when Killer beckoned him up onto the pirate ship, Penguin followed, albeit reluctantly. Introductions were subdued on all sides until Killer slung a casual arm around Penguin's shoulders mid-sentence to direct his attention to one of his crewmates. Penguin watched as everyone on the crew paused, eyes flicking to take in the arm and Killer's casual posture, and then erupted in a blast of noise that Penguin couldn't interpret.

Killer either couldn't interpret the noise or chose to ignore it, instead asking about his captain. Instantly the mood became subdued again. Killer's arm dropped from Penguin's shoulder and he dragged Heat and Wire aside to confer quietly with them, all three of them becoming increasingly agitated. Penguin knew from his own brief conversation with Shachi earlier that things were precarious at best in Wano and he suspected this was as true for the Kid Pirates as it was for the Heart Pirates and Straw Hat Pirates. So when Killer turned abruptly and stomped back over Penguin wasn't sure what to expect.

"You, stay here," Killer told him, "I have to go do something." Okay, maybe he wasn't expecting anything, but he was still surprised. He opened his mouth to object, but Wire beat him to it.

"You can't be serious! I don't care what kind of alliance—" Killer cut him off with a growl.

"It's not an alliance." When Wire continued to object, Killer continued over him, "He's staying here and that is not up for debate. I'm going to get Kid, he is going to stay here, and no one is going to do anything to him because I gave him my word that I'd get him back to his captain if he got me back to mine."

"And what do you suppose we do with an enemy on his ship? Lock him up?" This time the objection came from Heat, but Killer just snorted. Penguin narrowed his eyes, unsure of whether to be offended or flattered.

"I wouldn't bother, just keep an eye on him. I'm not asking you to spill any dirty secrets," Killer told them firmly. 

He turned to Penguin. "You keep out of trouble," he ordered, clapping a hand on the Heart Pirate's shoulder before adding, "Try not to annoy anyone."

"At all? Unreasonable," Penguin informed him with a snort. When Killer tightened his grip on Penguin's shoulder, he dropped his head dramatically but relented, "Fine, I'll try not to annoy anyone to the point of them dumping me overboard." 

And then Killer was gone, and Penguin and the rest of the Kid Pirates were eyeing each other warily.

"So, you're annoying?" one of them asked. Penguin sighed and crossed his arms for the sheer drama of it.

"I am a delight," he corrected the man, whose name Penguin couldn't remember. Look, there were a lot of pirates in the Grand Line, it was inevitable he would forget some of them. Suddenly the tension was broken by a laugh and the crew was mostly going back to whatever they had been doing before Killer and Penguin showed up. Heat and Wire lingered, probably to keep an eye on him but it's not like he had any desire to go poking around. He knew he was here on sufferance and Penguin had no desire to figure exactly how far that would get him.

So instead, he took up a perch on the rail closest to Wano and stared out as though if he just looked hard enough he could figure out if his captain was okay. The wind blew around him but it wasn't cold like it was on winter islands or back in North Blue.

"So, Killer likes you an awful lot and I'm trying to figure out how that happened." Penguin blinked his eyes open, unsure how long it'd been since he closed them. Wire was leaning on the railing next to him, eyes boring into the side of Penguin's head. Penguin glanced at him beneath the brim of his hat.

"I'm charming," he shrugged off the comment. Wire turned so he was facing him more fully.

"Well, that's certainly not it. Killer doesn't like charming. Not enough to leave marks like that." Penguin's face was suddenly radiating heat in a way that meant he was beet red, but he didn't react, didn't try to cover the marks he knew would be visible above the boiler suit from the angle wire was at. He wasn't ashamed of them, just embarrassed that he was now clearly going to be gossip fodder for the whole crew.

"I don't know what answer you're looking for, but I assure you I can't help," Penguin informed him. 

"Sure you can," Wire told him. A pause and then, "You ever seen his face?"

"No!" Penguin snapped his head to the side so fast he was surprised it didn't crack. The brim of his hat meant he couldn't see the whole of Wire's expression, but he could see a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"You ever try?" he pushed. Penguin frowned at him.

"No. I'd be a hypocrite if I did." Wire shrugged, smirk still in place and walked away. Less than minute later, Heat slid up on his other side. Penguin frowned at him.

"If this turns into 'good cop, bad cop' I'm jumping ship," Penguin told him. Heat just grinned.

"Good to know. Can you blame us though? Our boy comes home with a new toy and tells us we can look but not touch, so indulge me…"

"Oh, wow, are you about to ask me what my intentions with your son are? It's been a while since I've gotten the shovel talk." Penguin dropped the affectation when he continued, "Look, if you agree not to ask any probing personal questions, I agree not to ask why the word alliance makes this whole crew jump like there's a wasp on your neck."

Heat leaned back, speculative.

"Killer didn't tell you?"

"I didn't ask," Penguin told him pointedly. "Now, let me tell you about the time I convinced Shachi we were being haunted by the ghost of a cricket he killed. This was before we were members of the Heart Pirates, but…"

Penguin blathered on until Heat got bored and wandered back to Wire, probably to gossip Penguin thought, watching how they both glanced at him periodically. Penguin shrugged mentally, he was curious about what they were saying, but there was nothing he could do about that.

For the most part, Penguin kept to himself. Doing his best to only annoy the crew when he was especially bored. The food, when it was served, was much better than he and Killer had managed on their own and he ate with gusto, to the amusement of Heat and Wire, who continued to monitor him. This inspired Penguin to make a game of trying to get various members of the crew to laugh, with very little success.

All in all, being on the Victoria Punk was better than marine imprisonment but worse than being on a tiny boat with Killer (despite the vast improvement in food). And it was definitely worse than being home on the Polar Tang with his own crew.

The sun had already set when something thudded onto the deck of the ship hard enough to rock the deck where Penguin had been napping. "Something" turned out to be Captain Eustass Kid, who scowled at Penguin when he flailed to his feet in surprise.

"Who the fuck is this?" he asked the ship at large. Killer, jumping onto the deck himself, stepped between the two of them.

"Penguin. He's a Heart Pirate." Kid turned his scowl on Killer, who just crossed his arms and faced his captain fully. Penguin would've tried to look nonthreatening, but he suspected Kid thought he looked nonthreatening to begin with. If he'd thought Penguin was a threat he most likely would've attacked first and asked questions after grinding Penguin into a paste.

"Well why the fuck is a Heart Pirate taking a nap on our deck?" Kid demanded.

"I told you I had help getting back here," Killer said, with the air of someone used to repeating themselves frequently. Penguin would have been more insulted by the skeptical look Kid sent him if he wasn't still at least a little worried Kid might punch him off the ship.

"And we're just letting him wander around the ship?" Heat and Wire hurried to assure Kid that they'd been monitoring him while Killer was gone.

"And now that I'm back, I have no problem keeping him company," Killer added, and Penguin rolled his eyes at the smirk in Killer's voice. Kid blinked, clearly surprised, but shrugged.

"If he causes any problems, they're your problems," Kid informed him and swaggered off, barking orders that sent members of the crew scurrying across the deck to get the ship moving.

"I hope you appreciate my restraint," Penguin told the blond pirate when he turned around. "I barely annoyed anyone at all." Killer huffed as he slung an arm around Penguin's shoulders and pulled him into the ship.

"I'd appreciate you more in restraints," he joked as he steered Penguin down corridors until they eventually ended up in a room that Penguin assumed was Killers. Penguin blinked in surprise.

"You're awfully cheerful," Penguin commented, his own mouth twitching up in response as Killer closed the door behind them.

"Well, I got my captain back and it turns out you and I are not enemies just yet," Killer informed him, meticulously locking the door. "In fact, we are temporarily on the same side. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Well, Kid wants to take down Kaido and Straw Hat wants to take down Kaido. I assume that means Trafalgar wants to take down Kaido. If we're being more competitive than cooperative, well it could be worse." Penguin sagged in relief.

"So what's the plan?" Killer moved forward, crowding Penguin against the wall beside the door.

"Well, apparently your alliance is having some sort of rendezvous in the morning, which Kid will show up at just to make sure nobody gets to Kaido before him. In the meantime, I'm supposed to sleep so that I'm refreshed for the fight." As he spoke, he slid his hands onto Penguin, shamelessly groping him.

"This is a little more frisky than restful," Penguin informed the blond, smiling. Killer nudged his mask against the side of Penguin's head affectionately.

"I had some good fights today. I've still got some adrenaline." Penguin supposed he could help with that. They separated briefly as clothes were disposed of, and then Penguin was bracing himself against the wall as Killer pressed up behind him, slick fingers preparing him with efficient movements.

The feeling of Killer behind him, of knowing that this incredibly powerful man was so wound up, made heat curl in the pit of Penguin's stomach. When Killer began to slide into him, he groaned. In response, Killer's hips jerked the tiniest bit. Being able to feel how focused Killer was on him made him feel powerful, even as Killer effortlessly manhandled him so he could begin to thrust in earnest.

One arm came forward to wrap around his torso as Killer's other hand slid down to lift Penguin's leg. It should've felt precarious, Penguin standing there on the ball of one foot, but it didn't. Killer was able to so easily support them that Penguin leaned his head back onto Killer's shoulder and trusted Killer to adjust for the shift in balance while he removed his hands from where they had been braced on the wall. One of his hands moved to grip the arm Killer had wrapped around his waist while the other moved further down to stroke himself.

Killer hooked his chin over Penguin's shoulder, the edge of the helmet digging into Penguin's collarbone as Killer apparently watched this new development.

"Killer," he gasped out a moment later, when a shift in the blonde's stance caused an extra spark of pleasure to race up Penguin's spine. Killer froze, and the sudden cessation of movement made Penguin whine.

"I need to kiss you," Killer announced abruptly, and his voice was gravelly. He pulled out and lowered Penguin's leg, gentle despite the urgency of his voice and grip. He reached out and flicked off the light and then there was a crash that sounded like Killer had ripped off the helmet and hurled it across the room, uncaring where it landed. He spun Penguin around and kissed him, at the same time encouraging him to hitch his legs up until Killer could lift him enough to slide back in. 

Penguin obligingly wrapped his legs around Killer's hips, wrapping his arms around Killer's neck as the larger man bit at his lips. Penguin had vaguely been expecting Killer to press him up against the wall, but instead of wood he felt bulky arms wrap around him. He had never appreciated the larger man's strength in quite the way he did just then, feeling nothing but Killer and air.

Killer finally released his mouth, only to immediately start kissing and biting at his neck. Penguin keened every time Killer managed something particularly good and he suspected Killer would have nail marks on his shoulders in the morning.

When Penguin slid a hand between them, he couldn't help but groan and Killer's hips jerked in response. Killer abandoned his neck in favor of Penguin's mouth, swallowing the sounds Penguin made as he hurtled towards completion. When Penguin did finish, Killer was not far behind, bending his head to bite Penguin's shoulder as he groaned, hips thrusting erratically even as he (miraculously to Penguin's mind) managed to keep them both upright.

With clear familiarity, Killer managed to get them to the bed without crashing into anything. They shuffled around for a minute before settling Killer behind Penguin, face buried in his neck. Penguin sighed.

"Why do you get to be the big spoon?" Killer grunted.

"You can be the big spoon next time if you let me enjoy the afterglow for once." Penguin smirked.

"Deal."

A few minutes later, Killer realized he didn't know where his helmet had ended up. Penguin, laughing, ended up dragging a pillow over his head so Killer could turn on the lights to find it. He dutifully thanked Killer between giggles when his hat landed on top of his hands and Killer turned around so Penguin could don it. Eventually, they managed to get cleaned up and piled back into bed in a tangle of limbs to sleep.

The morning was wet and windy and full of drama, but Penguin didn't care, standing on the deck, eyes peeled for his crew. Penguin grinned so wide it hurt when he saw the submarine breach. He turned to look at Killer, to thank him or just to share his joy he wasn't even sure. Killer was already facing him when he turned, but his posture was unreadable.

Killer dragged him into a relatively quiet corner, and Penguin watched with wide eyes as he unhooked the mask and lifted it up just enough that he could duck down and kiss Penguin. The kiss was anything but chaste, Killer taking advantage when Penguin's mouth dropped open in surprise at the relatively open display of affection to deepen the kiss.

When Killer pulled back, he didn't go far. At some point during the kiss he had backed Penguin against a wall and now he stood, body pressed close and head bent so that every breath brushed Penguin's cheek. Penguin, one hand clenched in the larger man's shirt just above his heart, tilted his head so they were cheek to cheek and pressed his eyes closed so he could breathe this man in for just a moment longer recognizing the moment for what it was.

"After the battle," Killer began, then stopped.

"Straw Hat will insist on a banquet when everything is said and done—he always does. I'll find you there if your captain sticks around that long," Penguin told him. He didn't voice any of the ifs. If they won, if everyone lived, if there was enough of an island left in the aftermath for a banquet. Killer knew them as well as Penguin did, but in this moment they could do nothing but have faith in their captains and their crewmates and focus on the battle before them.

"I'll convince him," Killer said softly, and Penguin felt his lips turn up in the tiniest of smiles. He turned his head slightly, catching Killer's lips in one last kiss before pulling away. The helmet slipped back to its normal position as he did so.

"Well, until then, go kick ass," Penguin told him for lack of anything better to say. He wouldn't say goodbye, it would feel too much like a bad omen. Instead, he turned and walked to the railing. He was about to jump overboard when a voice made him pause.

"Don't get shot again," Killer told him firmly. Penguin glanced over his shoulder with a grin as he hoisted himself onto the railing.

"No promises." With a shrill whistle he knew Bepo would notice, he dove off the Kidd Pirates' ship and began the swim to the Polar Tang.

There were reunions and explanations to be had and a fight to be won. After embracing his friends and frantically trying to talk and listen at the same time to get caught up on what he had missed, Penguin turned his focus to his captain as plans were laid out and promptly ignored. If Penguin felt a tinge of worry when the Kid Pirates charged forward alongside the Straw Hats, he promptly put it aside in favor of the more general worry for his crewmates in the coming battle and the novelty of their guests. What would come would come, but there was plenty to do here and now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done and back to canon. 
> 
> In retrospect, I maybe should not have started posting this so close to a major work deadline, but here we are.
> 
> Really just can't look at this anymore, so fingers crossed that there's no major mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly written in an attempt to "unbreak" my brain and writing it has largely been like pulling teeth. So let's just ignore poor pacing and wildly varying tone/style, shall we?


End file.
